


Those Who Are

by XHazelDreamsX



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Angst, Demon Sleep Schedules, Jealously, M/M, Nightmares, Non-Consensual Somnophilia, Obsession, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Possessive Behavior, Rape/Non-con Elements, Returning to the Human World, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:47:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26815324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XHazelDreamsX/pseuds/XHazelDreamsX
Summary: After months in the underworld Dante starts having nightmares. Unsurprisingly, Vergil shows little signs of caring.Or.After years of pinning, Vergil decides to take things into his own hands; the wrong way.
Relationships: Dante/Vergil (Devil May Cry)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 57





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Thanks for taking the time to read this <3  
> I’m in the process of reading this for typos as we speak so please forgive any typos! I don’t want to spoil anything so I’ll be adding tags as we go, so please watch out for those! Please be aware this will be a darker work.
> 
> I also appreciate feedback so feel free to let know what you think!

He had been hell for so long that he couldn't even remember what living was really like. Those memories of the time he'd scarf down a slice of pizza while picking up the phone, grinning up to the ceiling fan as he awaited his next job. 

It's been too long.

So long that he's lost count. It's easy to do here, everything practically looks the same and there's no easy way to determine how many days they've been here but if he went by Vergil's count it'll be nearing six months soon. Although how much he can really rely on his brother's counting is beyond him.

Although he can say for sure that his brother has kept them from getting lost multiple times, and that's saying something considering that everything around them is just red, red, and some more red. An overflowing river of blood with barely any identifiable areas different from the next.

So maybe Dente has actually come to rely on his brother, even if just the littlest bit, even if Vergil himself hasn't come to realize it. And, he probably hasn't. His brother hasn't really taken much interest in him aside from the days they spend fighting tooth and nail to settle a lifelong rivalry that may never come to end. Despite Vergil's insinuating that he's one up on the 'kicked your ass' meter.

He often finds himself missing the human world, though he knows his brother hasn't had even one mention of it since they had arrived. Too busy fighting and killing and spouting off his self-righteous speeches.

This is Vergil's world, not Dante's; he can respect that, to a degree, although his brother would highly benefit from the human world. Maybe he could actually learn how to hold his tongue on those nasty cold-hearted comments he likes to drop or maybe he could even shake that glare he's accustomed to.

Of course, he's asking too much. He knows, yet, even now as he's marching the redden wasteland behind his brother, he notices how his brother's eyebrows are furrowed together in some level of frustration. The little frown on his lips doesn't go unnoticed either.

The world around them is quiet except for their footsteps. Highly suspicious, he concludes, but at this point, it's to be expected. Just as a wave of goosebumps ride down his back as Vergil turns and points the blade of the Yamato at his neck.

"Hey! I thought we called it a tie! Didn't we both agree on a vacation?" Dante tilted his head with a smile on his lips, contrasting his brother's ice sharp exterior. Vacation in the underworld, yeah sounds nice. It's not like they really expected to find some new luscious place that they could actually take a nap before some brainless demon decided to evade their space.

So a nice walk as an alternative wasn't bad.

"You've been far too quiet for far too long. Are you perhaps planning an attack?"

He shakes his head, gripping the Yamato's blade, cutting his hand in a way that just gives him a headache but nonetheless he drags it down, away from his neck so he can swallow in peace. "Wow, now I can plan? Thought you said not three fights ago that I didn't have enough brain cells to run a successful business but now I'm smart enough to plan an attack on you? Jeez have you gotten weaker or have I gotten smarter?"

Vergil's glare intensified, his hand griping the Yamato ever so tighter. "Neither. You simply gain a working set of brain cells when your mouth isn't moving."

"Ah, I see. Well too bad for you I was actually thinking back on the good old days. You know? Our first fight but for the life of me I can't remember what it was about." 

A lie, he wasn't really thinking about that, but to be fair he really doesn't remember why they were fighting. But he does remember his mother rushing to their side, attempting to break up their fight, and ultimately getting a punch to her arm that bruised for weeks. That split up the fight faster than the lone times their father had been home to do so.

To this day he's still not sure which one of them hit his mother, but he does know that after that she tried less and less to stop then until accepting the fact that this is them. A bunch of fighting junkies too far gone to care why what they’re doing is wrong.

"Father's legacy more likely than not," Vergil slipped away the Yamato, sighing deeply.

"You remember that far back?"

"Of course, a man always remembers his first victory-"

"You didn't win! That was a tie! We were both forced to throw in the towel!"

"I would have made you beg for mercy, had we not been stopped."

"Please you never got that much of an upper hand against me."

"It's clear this place has been detrimental to your memory."

He goes to reply but doesn't. He knows if he continues a fight will break out but god damn does he want to. It's basically in his DNA to thirst for the next battle, the next win, the next spray of blood. This is supposed to be a little relaxing vacation though so he keeps his mouth shut and fights the urge.

Vergil says nothing more, turning back to the path to continue. Dante trails behind, one foot in front of the other as his heart pumps a few irregular times.

...

They found a little cave. Small, barely big enough for two people but that didn't stop Dante from calling first dips on sleep. A nap, at least, a fucking long ass cat nap that could stop his need to yawn every other hour.

Not that Vergil has shown many signs of sleep deprivation. In fact, he has a feeling his brother hasn't had a real sleep schedule in years, not that demons really needed it, but they did grow up on one so it's almost nostalgic- oh yeah, that's probably why his brother doesn't nap.

But not sleeping leaves you sloppy and that won't do so Dante shoves off his coat, bunches it into a pillow, and proceeds to close his eyes. He feels his brother standing over him, glaring, and he waits for the speech he knows is coming. 

"A fault of living like a human all those years," his brother will say with distaste. "You've picked up on so many of their poor habits."

Instead, his brother says nothing and simply leans against the mouth of the cave. A clear tremble of irritation goes across his back but he stays silent.

Dante feels somehow warm and fuzzy. To think all it took was six months for Vergil to become...more considerate of him? Well, in truth his brother probably didn't feel like fighting with him over this, since Dante had zero interest in giving it up, but still, it's a nice thing.

A nice thing Vergil didn't have to do.

...

He dreamt he was on a table, his arms and legs bound. A group of demons surrounded him, looking him over with their hundreds of eyes as he failed, unable to do a thing but noticed the cold metal behind him.

He is naked.

He swallowed, couldn't help a bubbling layer of fear as he found himself unable to break free of the chains that bind him. He had to endure the touch of their hands on his cheeks, on his neck trailing down his chest before cupping his limp dick.

Despite all his thrashing, he couldn't stop his body from getting the wrong idea. He felt himself getting harder and harder until tears pricked his eyes and all he wanted to do was melt into the floor and never be seen from again.

He hated himself. Hated what kind of monster he must be for feeling something from this. He shouldn't be and it makes him feel so fucking filthy.

He jolts awake as soon as the first tear kisses his cheek, rolling down like a distant sense of filth that lingers. "Fuck," he mumbles, wiping at his tears, only to realize that Vergil is sitting beside him, Yamato laid across his lap and a blank expression on his face.

Vergil watched him cry and no doubt knows about Dante's erection. Not that it's the first time it's happened but god, he's never felt dirty like this before. He feels violated somehow, like a demon really did touch him with their filthy hands.

"Do you always cry when you sleep?" Vergil ponders, one hand tracing the edge of the Yamato.

Dante shrugs.

He really doesn't feel like talking about this right now.

When he goes to stand up, he realizes his shirt has ridden up just the slightest and he feels his brother's eyes on his skin, on his tears, on him. And he hates it more than words can say, not because it's Vergil, necessarily, just because of that awful fucking dream that has his skin crawling.

Not like it could ever happen, right? At least that's what he tells himself. "I've gotta," he gestures to his lower region as he stalks off behind a few redden rocks for some privacy. Vergil rolls his eyes and looks ready to protest.

"We no time for such nonsense," his brother placed Yamato gently on his side, where she belonged.

"We have all the time in the world," Dante reminded his brother before he plopped down behind a rock. 

He thought about touching himself, thought about letting one out. He's pent up, of course he is, but he can't bring himself to due to the filth on his body, on all those places they touched.

It's so stupid.

He buries his head in his knees and just sits there until his stomach stops curling in on itself. When he returns his brother doesn't say anything, but he has to have known he didn't take care of anything.

He just wanted to be alone.

...

It starts to happen more and more. His dreams that were once something he longed for turned to nightmares he dreaded. Each time he would awake his brother would be closer and closer, Yamato across his lap, and a blank expression on his face. 

Maybe Vergil had some instinctive need to comfort Dante but refused to do so...even if that's not the cause and Vergil was just laughing at his misery internally. He couldn't deny how his brother's presence made him feel better, made him feel protected.

"Do you wish to speak about it?" His brother inquired, his hand rubbing the length of Yamato, as he often did. "I promise the utmost respect."

"No thank you," he spoke hoarsely, his voice rough from all the silent crying he's been doing recently. "I would never live it down."

His brother didn't deny that fact.

...

At some point Vergil stopped standing as Dante fell asleep, instead sitting beside him, watching him closely, or sitting beside him, with his back towards him. Dante liked that the most because often he would reach a hand out and grasp Vergil's coat with his thumb and index finger until he fell asleep, and in those dreams, he would feel just the tiniest bit better.

He wondered if it was the demon world doing this to him. If all this red and blood and darkness was just too much for a guy who preferred pizza on a daily basis.

...

They haven't fought in a while. He realized in a shock right to his heart. No wonder his brother's been moody- well not really. But he can tell underneath that calm demeanor is a boiling pot of frustration.

He knows they're bound to fight so he doesn't try to force anything but the mere fact that they haven't is just a testament to how close they've become. Or the fact the Vergil has no interest in picking a fight with a man who can barely close his eyes without feeling terrified.

Of course, his brother is way too much of a nobleman to hit a guy while he's already down in the dumps.

...

After weeks of constant nightmares, they finally had a way out. Finally, they were done here, finally, they could go, finally, as long as he did as Vergil instructed. 

"If you fall behind I'll leave you here," his brother gestured to something, but Dante honestly had no idea what that was.

"Course, wouldn't dream of it."

...

The human would was just as amazing as when he left it. Mainly the pizza that he scarfed down like it was no tomorrow, getting that gritty taste of blood out of his mouth. "Fuck yeah," he sighed in contentment, attempting not to get any of his nasty fingers too close to his lips. "Sure you don't want some, Vergil?" He asked, mouth full, a too cheerful smile on his face, and Vergil looked absolutely disgusted at his display.

"I'll pass," his brother muttered, hands crossed across his chest as he leaned against the wall near the doorway, reminiscent of V's first meeting here.

"Utilities are coming out of your next pay," Morison said as he lights up a cigar. "Love to have you back but I'm not a charity worker," he slid the deed of Devil May Cry across his desk, Dante folded it up and slipped into his desk. 

"Thanks, Morrison."

"I'll call you with the first job I get," Morrison slipped his hat back on and walked out the door, not a single word said to Vergil but a simple nod of his head.

"You work with that man?" Vergil stepped off the wall, walking towards the desk.

"Gets me all the good jobs. A middle man in some sense. Not very good at finding them myself."

"So you admit your faults."

"Not everyone is perfect Vergil, although you're looking at near-perfect perfection," Dante gestures to the entirety of his own body.

"Please it's the other way around."

He stands up, hands over his head, a smile on his lips. Good to be home, in a place of comfort. "I'm getting a shower first."

"That's rather inconsiderate, I am the guest. Have you no respect? Not to mention I'm your elder."

He rolls his eyes as he trudges the stairs. "My house, my rules. Bite me."

He slipped into the bathroom and closed the door behind him before starting the shower as hot as he could get it. As he undressed, for the first time in forever, he couldn't help but feel strange. But he ignored that and instead let the water pour on him, let it burn his skin, let it purge him of his filth.

He just wants to be clean again.

As he scrubs at his skin, scrubs so hard that blood prickles his pours and drips down the drain, he feels a sense of clean he hadn't felt in weeks. Finally, he could breathe again without feeling weighted down by the weight of his own mind.

He was also physically clean, of course, but that's not what he meant. He could deal with dirt and blood and shit any day but he couldn't deal with the filth of someone's hands on his body. Someone's hands touching him like that when he couldn't fight it.

Even if it was just a dream.

...

"You can sleep where ever," he told Vergil as his brother stepped out of the shower, newly fresh, finally gone of blood that matted his hair for days on end. "The couch or with me-" can't really come out and say that he's afraid of having another nightmare can he? But he'll never beg or force Vergil to sleep with him either.

His brother probably hated every moment of being in his presence. Like they when they were kids and Vergil demanded separate rooms, separate beds, separate bathrooms, and anything else underneath the big yellow sun because he couldn't stand sharing with Dante.

"Don't be ridiculous Dante. I don't sleep- besides even if I did it wouldn't be beside you. I'll rather take my chances on the couch," Vergil made his way downstairs, already slipping back on his coat as he went as if he didn't understand the concept of relaxation, comfort, safety, the fact that here they didn't always need to be prepared for a fight. "If you need a warm body to sleep with so bad that you'd resort to your own brother, perhaps you should consider a pillow. I ensure you it will catch more of your tears than I ever would."

He glared down at his brother who promptly sat on the couch, Yamato right beside his legs, and he grabs a book that had been discarded on the cushions. By Lady or Trish, he'd imagine, or even Morrison. Vergil reads whatever brown leather book he had picked up, and made no indication he even cared about Dante's staring.

Whatever.

Dante went into his room, that still reeked of him, obviously clear that the girls stayed clear of it. He falls promptly in his bed, towel still around his neck, nothing but a pair of sweatpants on, and he already felt himself feeling tired.

He was more than tired. Exhausted would be a hell of a lot more accurate. So he slipped underneath the covers and rolled to his side, on his bed that had hardened in his absence, no longer conformed to the shape of his body. "Oh," he sighed, blanket sliding across his skin, soft in ways that he hadn't known in so long.

The underworld offered no such comforts.

He fell asleep for the first time in months without a single dream. Neither good nor bad, and really that's the way he liked it. Just letting himself relax and take in the pleasures of a simple life he deserves, after everything he's gone through.

He wishes Vergil would sleep too because god he knows how good it is. How much it makes you feel like a new person. With new energy and forgotten memories put behind you as you become but a shape unable to care for the things of reality.

It's one of the best feelings he's had in a long time, so as he lays there, semi-conscious, he thanks everything he can that he can finally sleep in peace once again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Usually I wouldn’t post two chapters in one day but I’m genuinely so proud of myself for writing so much in a day! For the past couple months I’ve been struggling to pass 1,000 words- yay me.
> 
> Anyway I’m getting to the typos! Apologies for any of them that there are right now.
> 
> Warning for light non-con.

When he awoke, it was to a simple beating heart, so distant that it had to be Vergil on the couch, but it had a new tone that he hadn't heard in so long. Peace, contentment, a simple noise of a heart that's owner is sleeping or at least in pure realization, close to the edge of sleep.

So he celebrated silently, although he knew it was way too early to do so. But here in his bed, in his home, in his place of safety, he couldn't help it. He didn't want to get out of bed, in fact, he wanted to sleep all day, but alas he knows that Vergil would get inpatient and berate him for the rest of his life if he does.

After all, sleeping all day is something only a lazy slob would do and Vergil won't stand to be related to someone like that. Ugh, Dante rolls his eyes at the ceiling before sitting up and stretching.

For once, as he woke up, he wasn't sick to his stomach. He didn't feel filthy. He didn't feel the need to rush off in some corner to empty his stomach of its acid. 

For once he actually feels fresh but he does notice the space beside him is cold. Not like Vergil and him ever slept together in the underworld, didn't even ever lay down together in a ten-mile radius, but they did sit together or often Dante would sleep and Vergil would sit beside him and simmer about something or another.

It's just the loss of his presence that weighs on his mind, but he does his best to ignore it. It's not like Vergil's dead- he's just downstairs, safe, in the same house. 

They can't be together forever, but he thinks his feelings are justified. He can't ever be sure when Vergil is just going to up and leave and try to continue his pursuit of power again. He can't be sure when he's going to have to fight Vergil again, in a serious way, not the playful fights over their rivalry that they've had in the underworld. Those fights weren't fatal, were never meant to be, but if Vergil goes off again and decides to do his own thing, decides to be the demon he knows himself to be, Dante might be forced to do something he doesn't want to do.

He tries not to think about it. Tries to at least convince himself that through all the time they've spent together through the underworld that he can trust Vergil not to just up and leave. 

He slips on a shirt with a sigh before leaving his room. Only to be faced with Vergil, back against the couch, book in his hands, and an intense look as he reads through each line, each page, with a serious focus that only Vergil could have.

Of course, his brother didn't get a lick of sleep.

Then his brother looked up from the book, not to him, but just slightly over, and then the door opened. In walked a young lady, bright pink dress, frills at the bottom, she made it approximately one step before Vergil was towering over her, Yamato already slipped out against the girl's throat. She managed to shout a cut off "Dante!" as Vergil's Yamato grazed her skin.

"Don't," he managed to make it down the stairs before Vergil did anything too rash. "She's a friend."

Vergil begrudgingly let her go, slipping the Yamato away. "Vergil meet Patty, Patty-"Dante slid a hand around his brother's shoulders, "meet my brother."

Vergil immediately shook off his lingering arm and gave him a harsh pinch that left it stinging. "You- what? You have a brother?" The girl gestures excitedly with a swifter, he hadn't noticed before, in her other hand is a bucket. "Nice to meet you," she tilted her head, smiling as she pushed between the brothers. She sits down the bucket and the swifter and addressed the house as a whole.

"Much cleaner than I thought. Here I was thinking I was gonna be stuck here all day cleaning up your filth."

"I've only been back a day besides that, where'd you get a key?"

Patty turns on her heels, hands on her hips. "Who do you think has kept this place clean? Lady and Trish certainly haven't lifted a finger."

"You really came here to clean? That's all?"

"Of course what else would I be here for?" She said, looked away with feigned innocence.

"Oh come on, kid," he sighed, bringing his hands up, extending them outward in a gesture. "Bring it in."

Patty only took a few steps before being her arms around him. The hug was warm, so very warm, and lightly he could smell salt from her tears as she mumbled that she forgave him for not showing up to her 18th birthday party.

Vergil, who watched the whole event go down, narrowed his eyes at patty and almost looked like he was going to attempt to gut her again, which Dante glared at him for. "Oh, I missed you!" Patty cries into his shoulder and he pats her back.

"Missed you too."

He did. He missed all of them. He missed so much here, that for a moment, getting it all back made what he's been feeling so much easier to deal with. 

His dreams were in the past now, nothing to fret about anymore. Nothing to worry himself over.

"Stay for dinner, for compensation for that birthday gift I owe you."

Patty shook her head, eyebrows already coming downward in the middle to indicate her distaste. "No way am I staying for pizza, Dante. I will not be swayed with the gift of food! I demand a nice dress, you know, like the one I showed you before-"

"Should have known you'd be like this," Dante cut her off, throwing his hands up in a gesture before walking over to his chair and falling into it with a dull thud and throwing his feet up on the desk.

"This?" Patty said with a hiss. Walking over to him with a frown on her lips before she brought the swifter up above her head. It came down with a heavy blow on her chest and she growled. "This is your place! Help pick up around here! Look at this pizza box you've just left on your perfectly cleaned desk! Don't you know where the trash is? How old are you?"

Dante goes to open his mouth and protest but before he can Vergil cuts him off. "Do you really expect my brother to harbor such manners?"

Patty put her hands back on her hips with a sigh. "No, but, it has been long enough that you'd think he'd have picked up something."

"Too high of expectations for-"

"Would you both shut up? I'm cleaning, I'm cleaning-" he picks up the box and throws into the trash can like a frisbee. It lands inside with a hollow thud and Dante leans back into his chair. "Happy?"

"Not even close," Patty grins.

He looks towards Vergil for support but his brother sits back down on the couch and picks up the book once again. Dante is left alone to deal with her wrath.

After cleaning every even semi dusty surface in the house he's sweaty, gross, and in need of a shower. That doesn't stop him from ordering a pizza and eating it on top of his recently cleaned desk with Patty glaring at him. 

"Ugh, Dante!" She tosses her head to the side, looking off with a blush on her cheeks. "Somethings never change...I guess," she said more of a reminiscence tone, a genuine smile on her lips, one of such a gentle nature it makes him want to melt into the desk because he really doesn't deserve it.

He can feel Vergil's glaring into his skin. Too much company too fast. Too much domestic familiarity his brother probably hasn't experienced since their childhood.

...

When Patty finally left, the sun was going down, and she promised she'd be back in a few days to clean again. "Don't wreck the place too bad Dante or I'm going to start charging."

"Yeah yeah," he placed his hand on her head and she puffed out her cheeks.

"I'm not a little kid anymore!" She bats his hand away. 

"Whatever you tell yourself to fall asleep at night."

She rolls her eyes.

...

"So," Vergil starts as Dante returns to his desk, picking up another piece of pizza. "Is that girl your romantic partner?"

Dante chokes on the pizza, cheese slipping and falling down his throat while he coughs and sputters, hitting his chest a few times before finally sipping on his warm watered down tea. "What!? No- no of course not. I've known her since she was like this big-" Dante makes a few motions with his hand. "She's more like a niece or a little sister or something. Definitely, family not whatever you're thinking."

"I see," Vergil said simply, but clearly an air of tension left him. Like somehow whatever he was thinking was stressing him out. Vergil closed the book and stood, looking around briefly for a moment. "I can't believe you let a human push you around."

Dante shrugs his shoulder, taking another three bites. "What can I say? She makes a convincing case."

"It's shameful that you sink below their levels."

Dante narrowed his eyes.

Vergil raised his eyebrows.

"Really? I think it's shameful that you held a blade to a little girl's throat."

Vergil narrowed his eyes now. "No, it wasn't."

"Yes, it was. What did you think she wanted to do? Stab you with a fluffy duster? Good plan."

"Threats come in an abundance of forms."

They continued to argue and at some point, it melted into a pot of yelling until Vergil unsheathed Yamato and the rest is history. Punching, stabbing, and grinning like a bunch of madmen.

Until finally they collapsed on the floor and Dante let out a curse. Fuck did it feel good but his office looked like complete shit now...and he just cleaned it.

Various odd and end chairs are busted, a few boards, glass lays scattered across the ground in some areas, and Vergil...Vergil just sits there with the tiniest smug smirk on his face.

"Let's take it outside next time," he huffed, "don't think my house can take around round."

"Doesn't change the fact that I'm two up."

"I don't think that's true."

"Unlike some people, I can count, Dante."

"Mmm, can you? Doesn't sound like it."

"Outside," Vergil growled and Dante simply grinned.

...

When they returned home, bloody, ripped up in way too many places, they were content. He hasn't felt this good in weeks. He should have beat Vergil into the ground weeks ago when he started to feel like shit.

"Up one," he muttered.

"We're even," Vergil corrects.

"Whatever," he makes his way up the stairs, discarding clothes as he goes until he's in his underwear as he makes it to his bathroom.

He slips in and out quickly, knowing Vergil is downstairs bleeding on his couch is more than enough motivation. He doesn't need another lecture from Patty.

He slings a towel around his neck and steps out to stand at the top of the stairs. "Showers open," he calls down and Vergil makes some sort of noise of affirmation. Vergil slips by him without a word and shuts the bathroom door behind him.

He continues to pat at his hair before picking up all his clothes to throw into the basket. God, he's so ready for bed. 

...

He sleeps that night in peace at first. It's a soft flower blowing in the breeze, living how it's meant to, then a storm rolls in, raining down heavy onto the floor, forcing its top to drop down further and further until...

SNAP.

The head falls right off, all it's pretty petals, and the flower dies.

Dante wakes up, panting, and as he attempting to jolt upright as he often did after his nightmares, he instead head butts something hard and the piercing pain forces him to fall back with a yelp. "What the fuck?" He mumbles, rubbing at his head until he feels the drip of something got and wet, then he smells it. 

Blood.

Vergil's blood.

As he blinks again, adjusting his eyes again, he realizes with some sort of stomach-churning horrible that his brother is above him, balancing on one of his hands beside his head, with a bloody nose and a look of ice-cold glass on his face. He looks ready to kill.

It takes Dante even longer to notice that his own loosely fitted pants are halfway down his knees and his erection is standing tall, warm, and covered in Vergil's hand. His erection pulses, but flags when his stomach acid jumps off his throat and threatens to come out.

"Vergil?" He managed to say finally, his voice a mere whisper. "What are you doing?"

His brother doesn't say anything for a while. Simply breathing in and out, stuck in a moment of shock or something alike, but then he breaks out of that state as if it had never occurred.

His brother pulls away from him, wiping one hand off on his pants before frowning. "I didn't expect you to wake," he said simply, as if that was any sort of explanation. "I apologize for any discomfort you may have felt," Vergil stood up and made his way to the door- as if he had the right- and Dante couldn't even wrap around his head everything. 

Vergil slips out of the room and leaves Dante there, confused. Dante feels dirty, lost, like he's just been forced into a dark room unable to see what kind of sludge his hands were touching as he followed along the wall.

He had...suspected things...from his brother. He had some lingering thoughts in the back of his mind that maybe there was something like this bubbling underneath the surface of his brother but...he just never thought his brother would act on it.

Let alone while Dante was sleeping, defenseless.

He turns over on to his stomach, slipping his pants up over his bottom, and he simply breathes. In and out. Fuck, why didn't Vergil just say something instead of whatever the fuck this is?

Dante feels like shit.

Fucking worthless dirty shit.

It would have been different if he could have fought back- not that he would have necessarily. But he would have preferred the choice. Preferred to decide his faith.

Is this why he was having those strange dreams? Had Vergil been doing things like this since- he sits upright, throwing a hand over his mouth as he gags on his own bile. 

He can't even remember the last time he threw up.

Fucking Vergil.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure if I’m gonna continue this right away or do a few one shots to get a better grasp on characterization. 
> 
> Thanks for reading! Feel free to comment <3

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve only played DMC5 and I’m currently going through the old games. My lore knowledge isn’t the best so I’ll be going back and correcting anything that’s way off as I learn more.<3


End file.
